Strangers
by ArtificialAorta
Summary: Memories are flexible but the heart isn't always connected to the brain.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**: Memories are flexible but the heart isn't always connected to the brain.  
**Pairings/ Characters**: Clint Barton/ Darcy Lewis; Past Clint Barton/ Bobbi Morse; Past Clint Barton/ Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers, Jane Foster  
**Rating**: Mature  
**Warnings**: Contains a scene with sexual contexts, though rather less explicit in comparison to things I've written before.  
**Please read- A/N**: So I edited/ semi-rewrote this chapter after I decided to make this much more complicated and angsty than originally planned. Also I was unhappy with the first chapter and regretted posting it so soon after I first wrote it. This is going to be my, 'I'm trying to improve my writing skillz because I had an existential crisis as of late and hate everything I write'. Fair warning, things may get a little confusing. So let's try again, shall we?  
**A/N2**: Title borrowed from the Little Boots song that helped inspire this.

* * *

Clint looked at Steve from across the small booth as they finished their first round of beers. They were sitting in a bar that was slowly filling up on a Friday night, trying to pretend they didn't miss the rest of the Avengers and the distractions they generally offered. Clint could definitely have used the distraction right now but the other members were all busy with their own missions and actual day jobs. He was still licking the wounds from a disastrous re-attempt at a relationship with his ex, Bobbi Morse. Though if anyone was able to empathise over heartache for a woman and the cruel way of the world, it would be Steve.

Natasha had been trying to avoid Clint whenever it was obvious he wanted to ask her advice on how to handle the Bobbi situation. He didn't know why. Natasha got along with Bobbi well enough but it wasn't jealousy or overprotectiveness that fueled her aversion. The most he ever got out of her about it was that she wanted him to be patient. Clint knew he was missing some important information and Natasha wasn't going to reveal anything unless she felt it was the best time.

Which was frustrating beyond belief because whenever Clint had idle time, his body itched to see Bobbi- to try and examine every shout and gut reaction in order to try and make their last fight end so her love would come back. All he wanted to do was call up Bobbi but he knew deep down that everything would play out the same way. They'd start to get along but then the fighting would start, worse than before.

Nowadays, he just lived for missions because it was a distraction from the unrecognizable person he was be told, Clint didn't know if he still loved Bobbi like he used to but he wasn't sure if he could live without her either. And wasn't that just a slap in the face? It wasn't really like this until after they had broken up. Did he really want back into that extremely dysfunctional relationship? Probably not but he just kept playing out like a pathetic broken record, skipping and repeating. He wished he could stop and go back to feigning a smile and avoiding any real commitment but it seemed he was doomed to this behavior loop till the end of this days.

Eventually, he decided it was best to not mention it ever again to Natasha because without her insight, he'd probably never figure this shit out. And she wasn't going to be helping anytime soon. So he decided to take Steve out to lament on how fucked up things happened for seemingly no reason.

"You ever wish you could erase someone out of your mind?" Clint suddenly asked, thinking back to the rumours he had heard earlier that day about a successful round of memory 'deletions' happening in one of the SHIELD labs.

The question caught Steve off guard and he looked at Clint in unease.

"Erase who?"

"I heard they've been messing with people's heads in one of the labs," Clint explained slowly and Steve loosened up.

"Oh, the memory alteration experiments? Yeah. I complained to Fury about it. Told him it seemed too much like what the Russians did to Bucky..." Steve trailed off bitterly, thinking of his friend who he recently discovered was now going by the identity of The Winter Soldier. "He shot back with if we do more to understand how memory deletion and insertion is done, maybe we could fix it and any other person SHIELD comes across that got the same treatment. Or maybe we can get help people with really traumatic memories...

"But to answer your question, no. I mean, I've thought about it- about how sometimes I wish I could just forget all the pain and loss. But that wouldn't be giving honour to the people I knew. They remind me why I fight everyday. I'd lose who I was- who I am because the bad is just as important as the good. You can't have good without bad. You need both."

"Yeah. I hear you," nodded Clint. "Heard they went in and selected certain memories to erase from people who volunteered. Sounds more like brain washing to me. I've already had one psychopath messing with my head and I don't need anyone else snooping around in there. Even if they have a hundred PhDs and..." Clint trailed off when he looked past Steve and towards the semi-crowded bar at a woman trying to catch the single female bartender's attention. The woman had long, curly chestnut hair and was wearing a baggy, bright, patterned sweater, black leggings and snow boots. The rosy hue in her cheeks and wool beanie in her hand were all signs she had recently come in from the harsh New York winter weather.

There wasn't anything particularly special about her appearance, yet Clint couldn't help but let his mind get swept away by the way she bit her bottom red lip and jutted out a hip. She took off her fogged glasses and stared daggers at man that jumped in front of her to wave at the bartender taking another order. The new life in the woman's eyes made Clint's gut clench in the way it did when he fought with Bobbi. All of a sudden, air rushed out of his lungs and his heart pumped wildly against his ribs.

"Clint? Are you...okay?" Steve asked, concern in his voice.

"I'll get us the second round," Clint said, not hearing Steve over the rush of blood in his ears.

"You got the last round-"

Clint made his way through the large crowd towards the bar, wondering if this is what the moon felt like, being dragged around the Earth by a pull it didn't understand but not questioning it anyway. Once at the bar, Clint moved behind the woman and easily caught the attention of the bartender obviously favouring men for higher tips.

"Two more Sam Adams Seasonals and whatever this lady wants," Clint shouted, leaning in close enough to make sure the 'lady' knew he was referring to her. Now he could smell her perfume and it slowed his fast pumping heart. The smell made him think of warm summer nights.

"What? Oh...uh, a gin and tonic and mojito," the girl ordered in a rush, waiting for the bartender to turn and make the drinks. "Look, I can pay for my own..." she began annoyed but broke off when she actually took a look at Clint. The flush in her cheeks grew and she looked towards wherever her companion was in slight disappointment.

"Here with a guy?" Clint frowned, his chest starting to tighten and muscles preparing to attack the offending man.

"My boss actually. I was...getting booze to soften the news that I wanted to quit," she stumbled and turned her body around to face him completely.

"So a break-up?" Clint leaned in closer so they could hear each other over the loud shouting around them.

"No, my boss is a woman and I'm not dating her. It's just, we're friends and that's one of the reasons why I've not been fired for a job that I'm horribly unqualified for. Other than being the only applicant," explained Darcy, looking at Clint's face and quirking her head ever so slightly. She tried to place where she saw him before but couldn't.

"Still sounds like a break-up," Clint observed, his body easing up. Someone took the space behind her at the bar and Clint enjoyed the way she used it as an excuse to get even closer to him.

"I guess. I mean, it's a fun job even if the hours are wacky and the pay is good now. I still don't know half of what she's saying," she continued, letting everything spill out like it had been locked up for quite some time. "But The Idiot's Guide To Astrophysics can only get you so far and I'm a political science major working for a genius and its just not fulfilling anymore. It's weird actually. I woke up one morning, like a month ago and realised that I've done nothing with my life since I graduated. I mean, so much has happened and I'm living in New York City which is amazing but I felt like I've done nothing to change. To make myself a better person or the person I thought I'd be when I picked my major. Like I've just been stunting my growth. I'm...missing something. You know?"

"Yeah...actually I do," Clint swallowed, knowing exactly what she meant. He thought back this mornings waking up with the feeling he was a little emptier usual.

"And I decided that I need to get a new job that I actually like and move away. Like to California or London or just somewhere far away."

"That'd be a shame," slipped Clint when he was distracted with getting out some cash to give to the bartender. The slip made the woman quirk an eyebrow. "Uh, I mean not for you. For...the city of New York."

"Oh okay," the woman laughed loudly before covering her mouth, embarrassed with herself. Her laugh made Clint light-headed. "Sorry. I just told you my life story. You probably think I'm crazy."

"I don't. Actually, I think you're most sane person I've met. I deal with a lot of crazy at work. Uh, Clint by the way," Clint said, offering a hand, which she took.

"Darcy, nice to meet you." Darcy smiled warmly. Clint's throat dried up and his legs wanted to shake. That hadn't happened to him in a long while. The instant attraction and connection to someone, making him start to lose control of his body. Clint just stared into her blue eyes, letting himself lean in towards her for...what? He didn't know. But she started to lean in too.

"Uh, sorry," she took a phone out her pocket with a frown, suddenly torn from the moment by a vibration in her pocket. "Boss lady wants to know what's taking so long."

"Oh, I uh, better get back to my friend too," Clint admitted, glancing towards Steve, only to realise the man in question seemed to be staring intently at him and Darcy. They picked up their drinks but both hesitated to leave. Darcy chewed on her bottom lip as she studied Clint before putting down her drinks.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she laughed while picking up a discarded pen by a discarded receipt on the bar. She wrote down ten numbers on his palm and punctuated them with a small heart. "Shoot me a text tonight and maybe I'll send one back. Assuming Jane doesn't break down too much. Maybe I'll even send you my address. You have to promise not to be one of those creepy New York serial killers that my mom always warns me about."

"Awesome...and oh, definitely not a creepy serial killer," Clint assured, adding softly before he could stop himself, "I'd never hurt you."

"Good," Darcy laughed, picking up her drinks and starting to turn and weave through the crowd. Just as she was about to leave, she turned back around quickly with something on the tip of her tongue. She paused instead and shook her head, letting it pass. Darcy gave him another embarrassed laugh before searching for the booth her boss was sitting in. Clint walked back to Steve with a lighter spring to his step.

"So...nice talk?" Steve asked tentatively, taking his beer and watching Clint pull out his cell to store the number that had started to smudge from the condensation on the glass.

"Very nice," Clint smiled, already sending a text with a winky face to Darcy. "No judgements Cap but everyone needs a rebound. After Bobbi, I think this is exactly what I need. Call it karma giving me a break."

"Yeah..." Steve suddenly looked amused and chuckled. "Karma. Sure."

* * *

Three hours later and Clint decided that Darcy wasn't going to text back. He and Steve called it a night an hour earlier and ever since getting back to his apartment, Clint was looking for something to calm the itching. He paced, he did a few push ups, he watched TV- all trying to ignore the terrible foreboding in his gut that said an answer that wasn't going to come. Just as he began to get ready for bed, his phone beeped and he rushed over to see one message from Darcy. It was just an address but Clint stumbled over himself to get his clothes back on and to hail a cab.

He was at a quiet apartment building within ten minutes and took a moment to try calm down before he buzzed her apartment. There was a long pause before the front door unlocked and Clint was worried that she had changed her mind. When he was inside the building, he took the elevator to the fifth floor, impatiently tapping his foot the whole ride up. It didn't take much longer for him to reach her apartment number when apprehension slowly began to seize up his body once he knocked on her door and waited.

A sigh of relief was had when Darcy finally answered the door in a pair of baggy flannels, tank top and large sheep slippers. She didn't look like a woman waiting for a booty call, though her breasts were practically tumbling out of her top and he wasn't minding the view at all.

"Hey," she said, uncertainty stained in her voice and Clint couldn't help but notice the tight crossed arms and fear in her eyes.

"Hey. Let me guess. You don't do this often?" He asked gently, Darcy's arms dropping and her shoulders slumping.

"Try never. I don't really do one night stands. I mean, not that I asked you here for nothing. But you only live once and all that crap?"

"Yeah."

They stood for a few moments, waiting for someone to speak up and make the first move. It was a little awkward, Clint waiting for Darcy to invite him in and Darcy waiting for him to make the first move. Suddenly, Darcy blushed, mortified, before asked Clint to step inside when she realised what he was waiting for.

"Oh god, see? I'm horrible at this. I haven't been with a guy for a while. Like a year. Crap. And that's probably not what you want to hear. I won't be clingy afterwards. I promise," swore Darcy, locking her door and hitting her head against it in shame.

"Don't worry about it, I like cuddling once in awhile," Clint smiled, enjoying this hesitant side of her. "How did the talk with your boss go?

"Really good actually. She was surprisingly understanding. Said she wanted me to be happy and if leaving the city did that, then I should go for it," Darcy explained, shoulders losing their tense hold, which was what Clint hoped asking the question would do. "She even started to talk about how if I wanted to stick with the job, she was thinking about moving base back west. You see more stars out there anyway. And the weather's better."

"I'm glad it went well. Still not glad you're leaving," Clint said, pulling her away from her door and into his arms. He kissed her softly, not moving his mouth but patiently waiting until her body melted so that it was flush against his.

At the text message, a part of Clint had thought that this was going to be quick and dirty. But now that he was here, things seemed to be running towards a little awkward but nice. He was wonderfully mistaken on both accounts. Once Darcy's hesitation was gone, they quickly and messily made their way to her bedroom, only stopping to lose stubborn pieces of clothing along the way. Until they sat on her bed in their underwear. Everything slowed down. Darcy lightly ran her fingertips down Clint's chest and stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

Gripped in a sudden moment of tenderness, Clint kissed the tip of Darcy's nose. She looked up at him with such trust that Clint almost stuttered in his motions. But Darcy took off her bra and he was now too distracted with trying to kiss and lick every inch of her body to really think about the context of what he was feeling. He just let his body do what it naturally wanted. Every spot their bodies touched sent electric shivers rapidly to Clint's head and groin. He felt almost dizzy when Darcy sucked on his neck, dragging her nails down his back and wrapping her legs around his hips.

There was no doubting what this was. The way their limbs entwined as Clint buried his face in her soft hair, tangling and fanning out over the pillow, the breathless grunts and cries- the way each touch was lingering and tender but so sure was felt in each of his thrusts into her. There was no way this could have been anything but making love. No way that anything else could have arisen. They were lost in the moment and enjoyed very slow minute of it.

When it was over, Clint lightly ran his fingers up and down Darcy's arm, as they snuggled together drowsily. He lay on his back with Darcy against his side, her head on his chest and a foot tucked under his calf. The fact that he wasn't panicking and trying to decide his best route of escape was kind of surprising. There were three women in his life that he'd ever...made love to like this. Well, now four.

"You don't have to spend the night if you don't want to," Darcy offered quietly.

"You trying to kick me out?" he teased, making Darcy squeeze in closer to him.

"No...but if you wanted an easy way out-"

"If there's a chance of a round two," Clint stated with more confidence than he felt, rolling over so he was above her and settled comfortably between her legs, "then there's no way I'm taking the easy way out."

"Good," sighed Darcy, pecking Clint on the lips and then neck before running a hand through his hair.

"Good," Clint steadied himself above her, shifting most of his weight to his arm over her head and and resting his forehead against hers. "But give me a few minutes before we go again."

"Did I wear you out old man?"

"Yeah," chuckled Clint, "but normally I don't wear out that easily so take it as a compliment."

"Excuses, excuses," tutted Darcy, starting to run a hand up Clint's thigh and Clint decided he didn't need much of a break after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: For those of you who are coming back and didn't see the first chapter note, I have decided to make this story more complicated than I originally intended. As such, I rewrote a few parts of the first chapter and it may be good if you skimmed through that. Not too much change, just made it better because I wasn't proud of the draft that was up.

* * *

She was hurtling into darkness. Bare feet thudding and slapping against tarmac, goosebumps prickling in the cool air, lungs heaving painfully, heart about to burst from the effort. If she took the time to think, the sounds of the coast lightly tugged at her ears.

She was running towards darkness. Even if there was no moon tonight, there were a million stars in the sky and occasionally a streak of lightning that lit up the road before her. When it was just the stars shining, they looked like tiny flecks of diamonds shimmering on smooth black silk. Looking up at them helped ease the burning in her brain.

Darcy loved the stars. They were comforting. They remind her of New Mexico and Gods and a simple life. When she was just trying to get a degree in political science and she drove a van in the desert and made coffee for scientists and was happy. She wanted to reach up and grab hold, to pull down the silk and wrap it around her pale body that was only covered by a open backed hospital gown. But she couldn't. She just kept running.

She didn't remember why she was running.

No, that wasn't true.

Someone had told her to run. To be free. But she didn't feel free. She felt like there were pins and needles piercing her skin all over. Her brain was hurting and thinking about this just started to make it burn. There were tears streaming down her face- the reason for them she honestly didn't know. The expanse of darkness made her feel insignificant and small.

Just keep running, she urged herself. And for a moment, she started to calm down once more. The only sounds were of her feet slapping tarmac, her gasping for air and roiling waves hitting rocks. Suddenly, the engine of a speeding car filled her ears. Darcy spared a look behind her and saw two small lights growing. She almost fell but found her balance again and kept running. Kept heaving, even when she could taste copper at the back of her mouth.

Because she suddenly knew why she was running. She had to get away. Get away from them. From the men in the white lab coats, blue gloves and surgical masks. From the pain in her head. From the constant bright light. From the screaming and vain begging.

As the lights behind her grew brighter, Darcy could feel herself begging to anything that had mercy until her throat was raw. The tears were falling faster now. The pain in her lungs made her want to throw up. The stars were cold and silent.

There was a series of lightning flashes. White light filled the space around her and Darcy suddenly understood why she could hear the ocean. To her right was the metal highway barrier and a slim patch of tall grass. Then a long drop into salty, forgiving water. It beckoned to her. More forgiving than the stars and car barrelling towards her, almost close enough that she could just make out the driver. An angry, red-faced man with hate in his eyes and a yellow, crooked toothed sneer.

Darcy climbed on top of the barrier as the thunder grew louder and lighting ravaged the sky. The metal cut into her feet as she tried to balance. She looked down and could just make out the rocky cliff and uneasy dark water foaming below. The man in the car had stopped, climbed out and slammed the door behind him with a curse. She could feel his stale breath on her neck, even if there was a few yards between them.

With the little strength she had left, Darcy leapt and reached out for the sky. A sudden blast of wind blew harshly and it was as if she was suspended in the air; like she was flying.

And for a single moment, Darcy felt free.


End file.
